America Bound
by novemberskie
Summary: Kerstin is sent to America by her Germanic parents. She's being forced to live with her uncle Ludwig, who has a mysterious secret, as does the rest of the house. Can Kerstin uncover the secrets, and live to tell the tale? And what's with the strange boy who seems to have captured her fancy? Why is he so withdrawn? sucky summary is sucky. Give it a chance! :3
1. Chapter 1

_**Okay, so you'll have to bear with me on this story. I'm not sure how great this will turn out, but I hope you enjoy!**_

_** Summery: Kerstin, my OC, is sent to America by her Germanic parents. She's being forced to live with her uncle Ludwig, who has a mysterious secret, as does the rest of the house. Can Kerstin uncover the secrets, and live to tell the tale? And what's with the strange boy who seems to have captured her fancy? Why is he so withdrawn?**_

_**Warnings:**__** Innuendoes from none other than the BTT and Alfred, mentions of smut from Gilbert, and country bashing from Kerstin. Oh, and Kerstin has quiet a potty-mouth, so everyone else just kind of uses theirs arond her.**_

_**Pairings**__**: PruCan, FrUk, AmeRus, Oc/mysterious (I'm keeping it a secret until it happens ;])**_

_**I do hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

The last thing I expected to find out that day was that I was going to live with my uncle in America. Fucking _America._ Who the Hell wants to move to America, after living in Germany? Well, I can tell you that much; not me!

"Kerstin, get your ass out of your room, and come down here this instant!" My father yelled up the stairs, making me growl quietly under my breath.

"I'm coming, you good-for-nothing-asshat." I muttered, too quiet for him to hear. Then, louder, "I'm coming!"

I drug my suitcase down the stairs, purposely bouncing it against each and every step I could, just to agitate the idiot I called my father even more. The resounding _bang_ it made only furthered my want for revenge for him making me move to the _United States of Fucking America_. (like what I did there? Oh, the hatred I'll get in that verdammt country!)

"Kerstin, stop being difficult, and get in the gottverdammt car." My father sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, and pointed towards the door with his free hand.

"Why do I have to move to America?" I demanded, not for the first time. I had mentioned it several times, but he always changed the subject. However, this time, I got an answer.

"Your mother got tired of your childish antics, and decided to send you to live with your uncle." He told me, his voice stoic. My grey eyes widened, and tears sprang into them.

"I supported you two. If childish antics means helping bring money into this household at any cost, fuck you!" I spat, my words thick with tears, and venom. "Good-fucking-luck with that now that I'm out of the picture. Maybe now, you'll have a kid that actually can be your shining star, huh?"

With that, I stormed out of the house, suitcase in hand, and jumped in the cab, telling him to step on it. I turned to look out the window, pulling my long, dirty blond hair into a ponytail, and finally let the tears out as the buildings of Berlin passed by. I was going to get out of there, and hopefully, things in _Texas_ were going to get better.

League City, Texas was the most boring place I had ever seen in my entire life. I had landed in Houston—which was about forty-five minutes outside of League City—and already things looked awful. What the Hell was with all these horses, and cows? And why the hell was the guy picking me up driving a limo? I voiced such opinions in my German accented voice, but all I got was a raised eyebrow from the chauffeur, and he raised the window so he couldn't hear me. Real nice, ja?

"Damn Americans." I muttered, leaning back into the leather seats—I'm not going to lie; I was actually excited to be in a limo. Not that I would let that fact be known, though—with an exasperated sigh.

And so started the fun of watching the city, and then country, and then another city flash by. Eventually, I fell asleep. I mean, who wants to watch all of this for that long? Not this girl.

"We're here." The driver's voice cut through my sleep, and I let out a low grumble as I arrived in the land of the living.

"Gottverdammt dummkopf." I muttered, climbing out of the limo. We were outside of a large house—though that seemed like an understatement; mansion was more like it—with a little white wrap-around porch, and a pale blue paint job.

"Your uncle should be home soon." My chauffeur told me, tossing my bag and a key at me. I caught the latter, but the suitcase landed on my foot. Luckily, I had strong feet, and it didn't hurt. "Don't get into trouble, Kerstin."

"I'm not trouble." I growled, before swiftly turning around and storming up to the house. Once inside, I threw my stuff down to the left of the door, kicked my shoes off, and went into the living room to curl up and sleep until my uncle—whom I had never met before—appeared. Sleep came swiftly, and with it, dreams.

_ Dark shadows flitted across the ground as Kerstin ran, her heart pounding in her chest. It had been a long time—far too long—since she had last felt the wind on her face, and now, the only reason she got to feel it was because she was running for her life, trying to escape._

_ Escape. The word itself was nearly laughable. Her captors were quite crafty, and it was a miracle she ha made it this far without being caught. _

'Great first day in America.'_ Kerstin thought bitterly as she tripped, and landed in a large puddle of water. _'Just fucking perfect.'

_Needless to say, they caught up to her, and had her in handcuffs by the time she could even think of getting up._

_ "You're ours now, Kerstin." A deep, very American voice chuckled darkly, as he yanked her to her feet. "All you have to do is wake up."_

_ "Wha-" Kerstin began, but the edges of her captors' bodies were beginning to distort, and shimmer almost as though they were disappearing. _

"Kerstin, wake up." A German-accented voice cut through my dream, and I sat straight up, only to be looking into the crimson eyes of someone with snow-white hair.

"Get the fuck away from me!" I shrieked, scrambling up and over the arm of the couch I was on. I didn't exactly feel like being nice to the alabaster guy sitting before me.

"Is that any way to treat your awesome uncle?" Said alabaster man pouted, and I raised an eyebrow. The man could be my _brother._ He looked about twenty; which was only a year older than I.

"Wait a second." I held up a hand. "_You're_ the uncle _Mutti und Vati_ sent me to?"

"Hell no!" He smirked, gesturing towards the doorway, where a tall man with slicked back blond hair and stoic blue eyes stood. "That's _Westen._ He's the one who you were sent to." Suddenly, I was back on the couch, sitting beside the pale man. "So, did your parents tell you about us?"

"No…" I answered slowly, narrowing my eyes. "_Was_, you murderers?"

"Kesesese~ West, she's just like us!" He laughed, as 'West' just shook his head and left. "Geesh, touchy much?"

"Can I go to my room?" I asked, tired out from the jet lag—we had left at six AM in Germany, only to arrive at three the next morning (thanks to a very long lay-over in New York).

"Sure, follow the awesome Gilbert!" I tentatively followed my uncle up some rather regal stairs, and passed _'Westen' _on the way. Once in my room, Gilbert (I refused to call him Uncle Gilbo, like he told me to) jumped on the bed.

"Why can't you be a normal teenager, and fun?" He pouted, bouncing on the bed some. Of course, being irritating and smart-ass-y as I am, I faked a gasp of shock.

"What is this thing you call _normal_?" I asked, feigning horror. "Is it contagious? Don't touch me… I don't want to catch your _normal._"

Gilbert blinked at me for a moment, before bursting into hysterical laughter. While he was distracted, I decided to go find 'Uncle West,' and slipped out silently. It took me a bit to find the doorway he had been standing in while Gilbert took me up to my room—at least I thought it was the doorway. The house was too damn big—but all I found was the empty doorway leading to a small rec room, where a man with chin-length blond hair and stubble was playing pool with another blond man who looked entirely pissed off, and had caterpillar eyebrows. The long-haired blond stole a glance up at me, and blinked blue eyes in surprise, before a large grin split across his face.

"Well, hello, _ma amie._" Frenchie—because I was sure that he was French; his accent definitely was French—trotted over, and took my hand in his to kiss it. "Who might you be, _belle_?"

"Kerstin." I said slowly, unsure of what to make of this new man. "Have you seen Uncle West?"

"You're the bloody brat that Ludwig's supposed to look after?" The other blond, this one a Brit, asked, and I narrowed my eyes, yanking my hand from Frenchie's grip.

"Don't you dare treat me like that." I spat, grey eyes stormy from my anger. "I got it a home, and I'm not going to get it here too. So tell me where my fucking uncle is, and I'll happily get out of your hair."

The Brit simply looked startled, before a smile graced his lips. Frenchie gasped at his sudden change of countenance, and turned to stare at me.

"Angleterre never looks at _moi_ like that!" He pouted, and earned a billiard ball to the side of his head from the Brit.

"My name is Arthur, you git!" He growled, pointing his pool stick threateningly at the over-dramatic French guy, who was letting out cries of '_mon dieu'_ every few seconds. Arthur turned to me, his green eyes flashing curiously. "That's Francis, the French Frog, and I'm Arthur, from Britain."

"Kerstin, from-"

"Germany~" A loud, Italian voice cried, as a body crashed into me. I almost fell from the pounce that was surely meant to be a hug, seeing as how his body was wrapped around my waist, but luckily I was strong enough to stay standing. "Doitsu, you're a girl now! With funny grey eyes…"

I looked down at the Italian, who had half-lidded amber eyes, and auburn hair, with a strange, rogue curl that bounced around his head.

"I'm not Doitsu." I hissed, shoving the now-shivering Italian off of me. "My name is Kerstin. Has anyone seen Uncle West?"

"Ludwig, _ma cherie_." Francis corrected, earning a very threatening glare from me. "And he's right behind you."

I spun around in time to see Uncle West come into the room, looking quite confused. Then, a slight bit of worry, anger, and horror seemed to combine into one sentence; "did anyone tell her?"

"No." Arthur replied behind me, but all I could focus on was that Uncle West looked even younger than Gilbert.

"_Wie zur Hölle bist du mein Onkel?_" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I heard chorus' of 'huh' and 'wha-' from everyone, but ignored them as Uncle West escorted me out of the room. We headed up to my room, Gilbert following like a puppy.

"_Wir sind nicht so scheinen wir, Kerstin_." Gilbert said cryptically, winking at me. "Get some sleep. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow!"

The two exited my room, and I stared at the now-closed door, before curling up on the bed (which had no blanket, mind you). The only thought on my mind as I fell asleep was that I didn't want to have my nightmare again.

* * *

_**Translations: (Thank you, Junewolfe, for fixing the French!**_

_**Verdammt: damn**_

_**Gottverdammt: God damn**_

_**Gottverdammt dummkopf: God damn idiot**_

_**Mutti und Vati: Mom and dad**_

_**Ma amie: Female friend**_

_**Belle: Beautiful**_

_**Moi: Me**_

_**Mon dieu: My God**_

_**Ma cherie: My darling**_

_**Wie zur Hölle bist du mein Onkel: How the hell are you my uncle?**_

_**Wir sind nicht so scheinen wir, Kerstin: we are not as we seem, Kerstin.**_

_**So, what do you think? What is this secret the Germans are hiding? (oh, I'm sorry, and one self-proclaimed Prussian) **_

_**Reviews and comments are quite welcome! :) **_


	2. New Furniture and Friends

I woke up to someone bouncing on my bed. My first reaction was to kick them off, but in turn, I only got my foot caught in their iron grip, and my blanket was suddenly ripped from me. My attacker, Francis, blinked down at me in shock as I quickly pulled a pillow over to cover my nearly-bare body (What's so wrong about sleeping in only a bra and underwear?), though his eyes seemed to be staring right through the pillow.

"Get off, frog!" I shrieked, kicking again with more force—likely more force than I should have, as he was launched across the room—and snatched my discarded blanket off the floor. "Get the fuck out of my room, _dummkopf_!"

"Why, _ma cherie_?" Francis asked, grinning as my face steadily turned scarlet, though it was from anger, not embarrassment. Not that Frenchie would know the difference. He likely raped anyone and anything that moved.

"Get the fuck out," I replied quietly, almost too quiet for him to hear, "or I will slowly rip you limb from limb, including your _glied_."

I wasn't sure if he understood what I meant, but I was sure he had at least some idea, as he suddenly blanched, clutching his crotch, and darted out of the room. With him went my sleep, so I rose from bed, quickly pulled on a pair of black ripped jeans, and a black hoodie with a large eagle on the chest, and headed downstairs to see what was going on.

"Well, if you did that to me, you frog, I'm sure I would have done the exact same thing!" Arthur was shouting at Francis, and I came in just as a rolling pin became acquainted with the frog's head. How Francis didn't collapse, I don't know, but I still let out a loud laugh, and sat myself on the large marble island in the middle of Uncle West's kitchen. (Yes, he was still Uncle West to me. It sounded better than Ludwig)

"What do you want for breakfast, _Mäuschen_?" Gilbert came up behind me, and I froze at that nickname.

"Don't. Call. Me. Mousie." I ground out, not turning around.

"Kesesese~" Gilbert's wheezy laugh made me cringe mentally. "_Vögelchen_ doesn't seem to mind when I call him Birdie."

"Well, I'm not this sorry-ass-Birdie guy, now-" I was cut off by a very loud Italian voice shrieking for some 'tomato bastard' to let him go. Curious, I glanced over towards the living room to see a boy who looked almost exactly like the other Italian that had hugged me—though this one looked rather angry—and a Latino with his arms wrapped around the fiery Italian. His dark brown hair was curly, and his green eyes twinkled happily.

"But, Lovi~" The Latino cooed. "You're so cute when you blush!"

"I suggest you let go of him before he explodes, and kills you." I called, smirking at the shocked look I got from the Latino. "Unless you're into that kind of stuff."

"That's Antonio." Gilbert pointed at the tan man, then pointed at the twin of the other Italian. "And that's Lovino."

The doorbell suddenly went off, followed by Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis racing towards the door to open it first.

"Kerstin's furniture is here!" Antonio's voice floated through the house, drawing me towards the front door curiously. Sure enough, there was a guy wearing a uniform from a moving company standing on my porch (wait, when was it _my _porch), while a large moving van sat idling in the large driveway behind him.

"Alright guys, let's get moving!" Gilbert clapped his hands together, and everyone filed outside to start, including me. There were a few men I didn't recognize, but only one really caught my eye; a man about half a head taller than me, with shaggy blond hair and lapis eyes. He had a Nordic cross in his hair, holding it back from his eyes, though a few strands still hung loose.

"That's Lukas." Francis whispered close to my ear, making me jump and scream from shock. "Just act normal, and he won't know we're talking about him."

"Frog." I hissed, shoving him away as I went to the back of the truck to see just what I had for furniture. I noticed there was no bed in the truck, but that was likely because Gilbert and Antonio had already taken some large item up. Left in the truck was a black wooden dresser, a white wooden vanity table with a mirror, and a few black and white chairs, with a glass table.

"Come on, Kerstin." Uncle West called as he jumped up into the truck, and started handing things out to people. I was teamed up with mysterious cross guy to carry my dresser up.

"Don't drop it." I muttered, trying not to make eye contact with him.

"I won't." He replied, his voice almost bored. We carried it the rest of the way up without a word, and set it along the wall to the left of the door. Then, I turned around to see my bed. It was a loft bed, with a desk and a desk chair underneath. I quickly pulled my sketch books out of my suitcase and set them on the desk, and put my clothes away in my dresser while the other guys brought in the rest of the furniture. The chairs and glass table were beside the large floor-to-ceiling window, and my vanity went over by my bed.

"Kerstin!" Uncle West came into the room and smiled at me. "Do you like your room?"

"I love it!" I squealed, before freezing abruptly. I was never this nice to people. Everyone seemed shocked with how we acted around one another, because Gilbert was staring at Uncle West with his mouth gaping open.

"Oi, _Westen_?" He called, walking over to throw an arm around his brother. "Why are you so nice to her? I don't ever see you smile at anyone other than Italy."

"Italy?" I blinked in surprise. Who was Italy? "Who the _Hell _names their kid Italy?"

Gilbert and Uncle West blinked at me in surprise, before Gilbert laughed nervously. "It's a nickname thing. We call Feliciano Italy."

Just then, said Italian came trotting in.

"Hi Italy!" I called, smiling at the ditsy auburn-haired Italian.

"Doitsu, I thought we weren't calling each other by our names while Big Sister Kerstin was here?" Feliciano asked, looking up at Uncle West in confusion.

"Our nicknames are okay, Feli!" Gilbert said a little too rushed for my liking. Luckily for him, Francis came barreling into the room, breathing heavily.

"I have a niece too!" He cried, before 'fainting' right there on the floor. Everyone rushed to his side, but both Arthur and I just walked up and kicked him in the ribs to get him up. "_Mon dieu_! That hurt, Angleterre!"

"Who's your niece?" Uncle West asked, followed by everyone asking the same inane question.

The doorbell went off then, and Francis quickly scrambled out of the room, and down the stairs. We all followed, curious as to whom this new person was. However, I was quickly distracted by the fact that a certain Nordic-cross-wearing blond's hand was brushing against my own. Unwilling to get close to anyone, I quickly separated from the group, and stayed on the stairs, watching as the door opened to reveal the new _frog_.

However, I wasn't expecting who I saw walk through that door; a girl about my age, with red hair in a fancy bun, and light blue eyes (though I did comfort myself with the thought that she had _his _eyes) that seemed to catch the light.

"_Bonjour_!" She beamed, smiling at the Frenchman as though she knew he was the uncle she was sent to live with. Something inside me told me she was just hoping that was him.

"_Bonjour, ma cherie_!" Francis embraced her as he would a lost child, and looked positively happy.

It kind of made me feel empty, because I never had that. Feeling left out, I turned and started heading back up the stairs, until I felt a hand on my shoulder. A quick glance up proved my suspicions, as I gazed up at Uncle West.

"We're your family now." He said softly, as though he knew exactly what I was feeling. Then, he gathered me up into a hug that quickly turned into the entire house (I still wasn't sure what they were all doing living together. Seemed kind of like one big orgy if you asked me) squeezing me from all sides.

"I love you guys." I murmured, trying to ignore the stares from the blond-headed boy. Nothing could ruin the happy feeling I felt then.

Well, except for one thing…

* * *

"Elise!" I shrieked, grey eyes glazed over with vicious storm clouds. "You stupid French frog! Get back here!"

I chased her around the house, murder evident in my eyes. She, however, was laughing gleefully. Hell, I probably would if I did the impossible. What did she do? The stupid frog put me, the queen of a pair of jeans and t-shirt, in a dress. Mind you, it was a red dress that likely thrived in the 'romantic' era, or whatever the hell you call it, but it sure as hell wasn't my kind of dress! (although, Tonio said he had seen a Spanish woman selling a similar dress, so it must be of Latino nature)

By the end of the day, I was exhausted, and angry. Best way to go to sleep, if you want to have dreams where you rather painfully murder someone.

* * *

**_Translations:_**

**_Mäuschen: Mousie_**

**_Vögelchen: Birdie_**

**_Bonjour: Hello_**

**_So, is it going well? I hope you guys like it ^-^_**

**_Reviews are encouraged, because they help me be a better writer :]_**


End file.
